The Rebel Three
by bookLEECH-missionETERNITY
Summary: Hilda finds herself betrothed to the prince of medieval France against her will. To please the court, Hilda has to hide her true nature. When a strange knight shows up at the castle's training ground, no one suspected her. Rated T 'cause I'm paranoid.
1. What!

***Chapter 1***

What!

CLASH!

The sound of sword on shield rang through the courtyard.

"Good, Milady, very good! But next time, don't go so far over. You might lose your balance," said the Swordmaster.

"I might lose my balance? Is that what you afraid of, Swordmaster? Or that I might accidentally cut your head off?" I replied. I never lose my balance. Never. I have the finest Swordmaster in all of France, all except at the royal palace, of course. I have the talents and a father with the money that will get me what I want to improve my talents, even though those talents may be impractical. You see, I am a woman of seventeen in a house of noblemen; I am not likely to ever get in a swordfight, whether I want to or not. I practice anyway, and I improve each day, moving from raw talent to the skills of a practiced swordsman, or swordswoman, as the case may be.

"Lady Hilda! His Lordship would like to see you!" Roland called, running toward us. Roland is our stable boy, messenger, and one of my most trusted friends. We have known each other since we were babies; Roland's mother is our housekeeper and married to the keeper of the stables (which is why Roland is the stable boy and good with horses). Roland is a year older than I, but that doesn't make much of difference in our friendship.

Roland finally got to us and started to take my sword, but I refused his help. "I can get it myself, Roland."

"I am sorry, Milady. Your father said it was sorely urgent, and you must come right away. I saw the king's carriage not far off; you might want to get into a dress before he arrives." He had said this all in a rush as he was still trying to take my sword and shield from me.

I looked down at my armor, sparring shirt, and trousers and sighed. It got so tiring hiding everything from the world, a world that would only ever see me as the pretty daughter of a nobleman, or the petty wife of a worthy earl, or duke, or whomever my father chose for me to spend my life with (Though I do have more of a say in my marriage than most since Father knows that I won't stay with a man I don't approve of for too long. Or more, they won't stay with me and my sword for too long). I finally gave in to Roland's insistent tugging.

"Well then, help me get this thing off!" I shouted. I did not want to be late to see Father. Roland began to help me remove my armor, letting me get most of it off. I _was_ still a girl.

When the metal suit was finally off, I rushed to my chambers, the closest to the courtyard, screaming the whole way for Olivia, my first, and favorite, maid.

In my chambers, I met Mary already there to replace Olivia, who was nowhere in sight. As she undressed and dressed me in one of my formal gowns, she said in her quiet voice, "Olivia is gone, Milady. She is visiting her sickly mother and brother in the next village over." Why had no one told me? Why had Mary not told me sooner? Olivia was like a mother to us both. How long had Olivia been gone? When would she be back? All of these questions stirred, mixed, and waited on my tongue to be asked, but now was not the time. Now, I was to see Father.

Father was a nobleman, as well as a merchant, a fine friend of the king, and completely crazed for whatever money was to be had. That was why I was curious why he wanted me just as the king's carriage was fast approaching our estate.

"Ah, Hilda! Good of you to get here so fast, and you changed into just the perfect dress!" said Father lovingly when I got to the drawing room.

"Roland saw the king's carriage coming. I thought that you would want me to look my best for His Majesty."

"Good, good, that is exactly right," he continued, looking distracted and nervous. Father is never nervous, unless he is afraid an important business matter might go wrong. Even then, it is seldom that he is nervous enough to wring his hands, as he was doing, anxiously, now. The nervousness was contagious; I found myself fidgeting, especially because Father was looking at me with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

"Hilda, I need to tell you something before His Highness' carriage arrives. Um…" his hands were wringing faster and a tremor came to his voice. He said, "Prince Charlemagne and his father are coming here to, well…for, um…well, I'll just explain. Sweetie, whatever happens, remember not to get angry; this is for your own good." By now, I was both scared and dying to know what was going on. Father had not called me "sweetie" since I was five. I had never known Father to stutter, falter, or wring his hands as I had seen in this single conversation.

"My Lord, His Majesty and the prince are here to see you," come from Mary, though I only faintly heard it, my own thoughts and questions drowned them out.

He sighed with relief, "Good, and Mary, could you come here?" Mary went to Father, and then went off to do his bidding. This, again, I barely noticed as I was so lost in my thoughts. What could this mean? Why was Father anxious about a visit from the king? What was it about this visit that was so different from all the rest?

The valiant prince, as pompous as ever, and the regal king, both in all their traveling finery arrived shortly.

"Your Highnesses, it is a pleasure to have you here," Father said, bowing.

"Your Highnesses," I repeated with a curtsy, as usual. It was strange. The king went straight to Father, but Prince Charlemagne had eyes only for me. We had not seen each other for a year; the prince had gone to visit with the prince of England. He had grown taller, and he seemed…handsome. I had never thought of Prince Charlemagne as handsome before. I had always seen him as a chubby, too-curly-haired, pompous jerk. But now…he had thinned out as he grew taller. His hair had grown out as well; it wasn't too curly, just curly enough. He still looked haughty and pompous, though.

His eyes continued to stare at me. Why was he still looking at me? Oh no! I didn't put my hair up! It must be a mess! I raised my arms up to try to tame my feral locks of hair when suddenly the prince blurted out.

"No! Don't put it up. It looks good down," Prince Charlemagne said quite unexpectedly, startling everyone in the room, even himself. He didn't sound rude or arrogant, only fascinated with the wild curls which framed my face. I left it down; I didn't want to put it into the bun I had intended anyway.

Father cleared his throat, "Hilda, could you come here please." It was not a question; it was a command that I dare not disobey! I walked through the drawing room and then on to the study where Father indicated I should go. Father followed me and closed the door. He never closed the study door, for it was so thick and heavy that it took both Father and I to open it back up again. Whatever conversation we were going to have, Father did not want us to be heard. "Now Hilda," he began, "I will tell you what this is about. Prince Charlemagne has asked for your hand in marriage." I knew what Father was going to say next, though I still dreaded what I would hear. "And I accepted."

How could he do this to me?! I had not seen Prince Charlemagne for a year, and suddenly he wants to marry me? I am seventeen years old! I want to do more with my life than sit on a dusty throne all day long next to my arrogant jerk of a husband! How could he make me marry the PRINCE! He always thinks he knows what's best for me, but he only knows what is best for him and his moneymaking schemes! I sat silently fuming for a long time.

"Hilda, I remind you, I have already accepted his offer, I cannot go back on my word to His Majesty; that would be treason. I knew you would not like this. I have arranged for you to stay at the castle until the wedding so you can get to know the prince better before you become man and wife," he finished. I shivered at the thought at being a wife to anyone, prince or not.

"I will accept, if only that I have no choice," I finally agreed, as I knew I must. Father would never go back on his word, especially if it involved money or his friendship to the king, and this had both.

"Then your things are packed and ready to leave when you are," was Father's response. Suddenly so many things came into place. I was the reason Father was nervous. I was the thing he was afraid would ruin his plans. Now I knew why this visit was different from all the rest: I would be going back with them. I knew why Father called Mary and exactly what he said to her. She was to pack up my things so that I could not think anymore about the matter and leave with the two royals as soon as possible. I would not back down if I didn't have the time to think about staying. I knew why Olivia was away, or should I say _sent_ away. She is rational and might have talked me in to staying where I belong. Olivia is cautious and would not have allowed me to do this. She was the mother I didn't have, the guardian who cared for me through everything. Olivia would never let me submit to this insanity, while Mary did as she was told and would regret it later. Olivia probably left early this morning and was returning as soon as possible after I was gone; our house staff was of limited supply because of my selective talent choice, my shameful hobby, my disgraceful passion. Few can contain the secrets of noblemen and even fewer could be trusted with a deception such as mine.

"Now that everything is settled, could you help me open this door?" Father said, concluding the conversation. I helped push the door as far as Father allowed me. So as to make me seem more feminine, Father refused my help as soon as we came into view of Their Majesties, forcing me to stand back and watch him struggle with the door like the lady I was pretending to be.

When Prince Charlemagne found him struggling, he aided Father getting the door open the rest of the way. "He seemed to be doing fine with that door. Why did it become so difficult?" he said absentmindedly.

The question caught me off guard, but Father was ready for it. "The rug started there," he answered, and indeed it did. Father's answer was perfectly logical and completely true, but it wasn't the entire truth.

Father and I stepped back into the drawing room. Father and the king conferred a little more while Prince Charlemagne came up to me, saying, "I did not want to do this either you know, my father put me up to it as well."

"How did you…?"

"Your eyes gave you away when you looked at your father," he looked down, as though ashamed, "and when you looked at me." This was going to be a strange visit to the castle; one that I will never be coming back from.

"Am I allowed to bring a servant, to help me feel more at home?" I asked. I wanted someone who knew me for me, not from a reputation or a pretend attitude. While the prince thought about my question, I wondered whom I could bring. Roland couldn't go; his father was too old to run the stables by himself. He was needed here. Olivia was gone and would not be back before I left; Father would make sure of that. It would have to be Mary. No one else knew me like those three, not even Father.

"Yes." Prince Charlemagne's answer snapped me out of my thoughts. "Yes, you may bring a servant, but only one." I already knew that, but there was no point in saying it, so I kept silent while I rang the servant bell.

Roland's mother, our housekeeper, came in to answer the bell's call, dressed in one of her best uniforms and apron. "Yes, Milady?" she asked.

"Please tell Mary to pack her things as well as mine. She is to come with me to the castle," I told her.

"Right away, Milady," she replied as she went off to follow my orders.

I gave everyone hugs as I said good-bye. That is, until I got to Roland.

I felt since we were such good friends that he deserved to hear the news from me, not from the rumors that were bound to spread. Though, to tell the truth, I was dreading it. I found him in the stables, grooming the horses like he always did when he was anxious.

"What happened, Hilda? You look terrible, like you are being forced to stop practicing with the Swordmaster," he said before I even got a chance to speak. I had not thought of this yet, but it was probably true. I needed to act more feminine to the royal family, as well as the court, if I was ever going to marry the prince, but that was not what I was here for.

"No, it is worse," I started and the whole story tumbled out. As I told the events that had happened, I was terrorized to find that I was crying. I never cried, just like I never lost my balance. But there I was with hot tears spilling down my cheeks as I told my terrifying twist of fate to our stable boy.

I hate people who cry, and I hated myself for crying, for crying in front of someone, anyone, especially Roland.

I finished my sad tale, trying hard to stop the water flowing from my eyes and onto my face, yet I barely succeeded.

"I wish I could go with you and Mary," Roland said, trying to console me. I could tell he was as horrified at the tears I had just shed as he was the nightmare I had just told. What I couldn't tell was if he meant the words he had said.

By the time I had finished my good-byes it was evening, and the king and prince decided to stay the night at our estate. Prince Charlemagne got the vacant chambers closest to my rooms that were reserved for guests and the king the closest to Father's.

As it turned out the closest part of the estate to my living quarters was an adjoining set of rooms made for my "court friends", though I had never ever been to court enough to make any friends and the rooms were never used for that singular purpose, if I had ever had any friends stay in those rooms, it would have been Mary or Olivia. Those adjoining rooms were mostly used by a select group of rich earls and dukes that Father approved and hoped I might take a fancy to, though to these snobs I did not _ever_ like I made clear that they were not, in any circumstances, to even peek into my chambers because I would be watching and it would not be a pretty sight if I caught them. This time, however I was so worn out from my predicament that I forgot to give Prince Charlemagne my threatening speech, sometimes with a sharp dagger poking out from the safety of my skirts.

Roland had asked if I wanted to talk to him more in my chambers after bed, but I told him I would be fine. That was another thing, Roland would come visit me by climbing up a sturdy plant growing outside the window of the empty chambers, but only if he could get there without being noticed. Of course, he had to ask me first.

I am sure Father sent the prince to those quarters for a purpose, as he does everything for a purpose.


	2. Oops!

***Chapter 2***

Oops!

The knock came when I was on the edge of consciousness. Still groggy with sleep, I answered the knock, thinking that it was Roland. Not even bothering to pull on my robe, I opened the door in my nightdress to find not Roland, but Prince Charlemagne. He was holding up his fist, ready to knock on the solid oak door yet again. He stood there looking at me in my nightdress with my hair still down, though even more tangled and curled than before. Embarrassed, I stumbled around my dark room until I located the robe I had abandoned when I had gotten into bed. I tripped three times over various objects, stubbing each of my toes with every encounter with the solid implements of pain. I fell over and finally found my accursed robe. Putting it on, I also retrieved the oil lamp on the small table beside my bed. Lighting it, I came back to the amused prince still standing in the doorway watching me.

"Well? Are you coming in or are you going to gawk at my clumsiness all night in that doorway?" I said, trying to stop him from staring at me.

It didn't work. He came in with his eyes still glued on me and sat down on the big four-poster bed to which I indicated he should go.

"I wasn't gawking at your clumsiness," the prince said. I felt my cheek burn at his honest compliment. They also burned at the thought that he had watched me stumble and trip to get my robe, intent on covering my nightdress, while he was still in his day clothes. He looked as embarrassed as I was, and that was comforting. "I am sorry to have disturbed you, but I couldn't sleep and decided to explore. I was curious what the door led to; I am glad I knocked," Prince Charlemagne explained. He was trying to avert his eyes now that he saw I was embarrassed. At least he's polite.

"I can go if you like, but I wanted to talk to you for a while. There is so much I never thought to ask, and many things I never thought I would want to know," he said, with a curious gleam in his eyes. He was right, the eyes never lie.

"Okay, let's talk. I am curious about you. I'll ask the first question and then you can ask me one. Be honest. Why do you keep staring at me?" I said. I wanted to at least get a few questions in while the king and Mary were not there to eavesdrop on us.

The prince blushed and shuffled nervously at the question I asked, as if he didn't want to give the answer. "I had not remembered how beautiful you were," Prince Charlemagne answered, thoroughly regretting that he even came into my room and asked to say. I was startled by the answer he gave. I had never thought of myself as pretty, nonetheless beautiful. "It is my turn to ask a question," the prince continued with a royal regalness. "Why do you spend so much time in the stables?"

_Roland_, danced through my mind. He must have seen me go in there, maybe even heard me talking to our stable boy. If I answer this wrongly, I might be doomed. "I like the stables. I have many friends in there," I replied. It was the truth, but not all of it.

Prince Charlemagne seemed amused but satisfied with my answer. "How do you feel about the…About us getting…?" I could not finish the question. I could not get the words out of my mouth. My tongue would not move as I willed it to and the sound stuck in my throat. It seemed as if I said it aloud, it would become real, and I did not want to deal with reality just yet. "About the engagement," I finally got out.

"It is a little hard to comprehend, is it not? To answer your question, I think that our marriage will be a good thing. You are smart and beautiful. I think we would make a wonderful husband and wife, a powerful king and queen," the prince replied. He talked about it so casually, so calmly, as if he actually accepted it. I did not want to be a queen and did not want to be powerful. He was confident about the marriage. It seemed he wanted it to happen, and maybe he did. He cut off my grim thoughts by taking his turn asking questions, "Why did you tell your servants good-bye? You hugged each one and called them by name, even your stable boy. Why?" So he had seen me with Roland, or at least heard me talking to him.

This question caught me by surprise. Did he watch me say good-bye; he must have. Did he not his own servants' names? I was so shocked, I answered his question with one of my own, even using his title to address him in it. "Do you not know your own servants' names, Your Majesty?"

"You did not answer my question. It doesn't matter," he dismissed. "I do not know any of my servants' names, and I do not know of any other noble who does. That is why I am so fascinated with you," he answered, seeming to expect my answer. Was I so predictable? Was I really as fascinating as he made me seem? Am I really the only noble who knows the names of my own servants' names, nonetheless are friends with them? Since I had foolishly already asked my question, the prince asked his. "Will you not call me 'Prince' or 'Majesty'? I do not want you to use my title to address me. To you, I am just 'Charlemagne'."

"Charlemagne," I answered, trying it out on my tongue. It sounded nice and the nonformality was comforting.

We spent the rest of the night talking. Charlemagne did not ask about Roland, swordsmanship, or anything that might make me lose my tongue too much. I am a fairly honest person; I do not like to lie. The only reason I have lasted this long is because I rarely ever come into contact with the outside world. My father is the conspirator, not me.

The wedding had been discussed, dealt with, and tucked away for another time. The night turned into the faint light of day, and I was saddened that reality could no longer be kept at bay.


	3. Leaving Home

***** Chapter 3 *****

**Leaving Home**

The carriage left early the next morning. Father was the only one to see us off., at my request. I did not want to say good-bye to anyone again, and if Mary was not going with me, I would have been lost and broken down crying in front of Charlemagne and his father.

The carriage was spacious, comfortable, and adorned with enough gold to feed our estate for five years at least. The interior was adorned with more velvet than I had ever seen in one place before, and the jewels that encrusted the outside of the carriage were sparkling in the faint dawn sunlight.

The estate was farther away from the castle than I thought; we arrived at sundown.

The castle was an enormous fortress of polished stone with a swiftly flowing moat surrounding it. This moat was fed by a river that had swelled by the added water from the melted mountain snow. As we approached a trumpet sounded, signaling the movement of the drawbridge that stood as a barrier between this glorious place and the outside world. The aged and weathered wooden bridge was lowered and I craned my neck to see the top of the wall to this formidably wondrous castle.

Inside there were beautiful gardens with fountains in every corner and a tremendous amount of flowers blooming in the crisp spring air. Colors were everywhere and so bright I could only glimpse at their splendor or else be blinded by their beauty. It was amazing to think of how many times Father had been in this exact spot and had spoken nothing of the gorgeous colors and the enormity of it.

"Do you like it?" Charlemagne asked. He had sneaked behind us so silently that we jumped at the voice I had almost become familiar with.

"It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Mary said before I had even recovered from my shock at this awe-filling place.

"I just cannot take it all in," I said, knowing he wanted an answer from me.

"This is only the entrance. Wait until you get inside. Here, let me take you to your rooms," the prince replied, laughing at our wonder-filled, widened eyes not wanting to miss a moment of the busy and humming fortress. The king came along, laughing joyously at our awed expressions as well.

At every turn many curtsies, bows, and "Your Majesties" greeted us. The servants would walk hurriedly past us with a quick bow or curtsy, anxious to get back to their duties now that the king and his heir were back in the castle from their trip. There were guests filling the halls of the fortress, all getting ready for the royal wedding that was about to take place, my wedding. These guests were visiting lords, ladies, dukes, earls, knights, and the like: any of title or rich personage. All were fancily clothed and wealthily furbished with jewels and pearls on rings, bracelets, earrings, and the clothes they wore. My own hair and clothes were simple, shabby, and extremely travel worn in comparison to these hoop-skirted, jewel bedecked, haughty ladies of the court that we passed in the marble corridors that was to be my new home.

"I feel so out of place; I wish I were back home," I whispered to Mary, taking precious care to make sure that neither member of the royal family escorting us could hear me.

"I know exactly what you mean, Milady," Mary voiced. "And I do not like the looks these ladies are giving you, Milady. I think you are being envied." That was a new concept to me, being envied by others. Mary, Olivia, and I never had the normal servant-mistress relationship. We played together as children; sometime we would even switch places for the day, me being the servant and they the masters, and they had never seemed unhappy; I didn't really come in contact with anyone outside of the estate.

Here, ladies of the court _envied_ me, because I was being forced to marry someone I had no intention of marrying. How did things get so messed up in such little time? The events and sorrows of only the days before seemed merely a distant memory of the past.

"What are you two ladies talking about?" Charlemagne said. We had been caught. Luckily I was the only one without a quick explanation to our secrecy.

"Only how different it is here. The estate is ragged in comparison to this magnificent fortress," Mary replied, saving me from explaining myself. I quickly agreed.

My new living chambers were the closest guest rooms to the prince's. This also had an adjoining door between. That was why Charlemagne was curious about my own door! Of course! My home could not be that unique; Father would have never have allowed that much money to be spent on something as simple as his home. I must have been duplicated from the palace plans.

"I hope you are comfortable in your stay here," Charlemagne called from the doorway. We both knew he meant forever. He had not entered the cozy room with its lush white fur rugs and many bright windows. "I will leave you to get situated. You will be called when dinner is ready. The servant bell is the rope by the window; you can wash yourself in the tub in the corner, and your things are being brought up as we speak." The prince pointed out each of the objects as he spoke, then turned to leave when he was done. He closed the door behind him.


	4. In My Honor?

***** Chapter 4 *****

**In My Honor?**

By an hour later, Mary and I had not only explored the room, but had both washed our travel worn bodies in the now cold and murky water in the basin. As my things were brought up, we had put them away, airing out my second best dress, the one I was to wear to dinner that night, refined my fallen hair- though much more complex, as well as intricately pinned and jeweled- laced and fastened the aired out dress over my thin shift, and I bejeweled myself a thousand times over, getting Mary's opinion on each, and finally deciding on a simple obsidian necklace that ran to just above the bodice of my dark green silk dress.

Now I was anxious for something, _anything_, to happen. I was even debating knocking on the prince's adjoining door when a young servant girl entered the room. She stood meekly, but there was a fire of defiance set deep in her eyes. Though successfully quelled as it was, it still shone through like a star through a tree forest canopy.

The girl was astonished at all that had been done. "I was sent to help you get ready for dinner, then take care of your things after I had escorted you to the Great Hall, where the feast is being held, though now it looks as if I am only to escort you, Milady." She said this in a rush, all with the same astonished look on her face. Both Mary and I laughed at the poor bewildered girl.

"Is dinner ready?" I asked when I was finished laughing. I was famished.

"Did you say feast?" Mary asked. She seemed as hungry as I was, though I could not be sure.

"The feast is ready, Milady. The palace cooks have been preparing for this feast in your honor upon your arrival here at the castle," the girl replied with reverence.

"My honor?" I said, pointing to myself. "I have never had a feast in my honor before," I mused.

"Really?" said the servant; she was staring at my face. Why does everyone keep doing that? She shook her head and looked down. Then she asked, "May I escort you to dinner now?"

"Is Mary coming too?" I asked. The girl had acted as if Mary was not even there. Again the girl's expression turned to one of astonishment.

"You are her servant, yes?" the girl finally addressed Mary, the look of astonishment still plastered to her face. Mary nodded, trying not to laugh. "You know her name?" the poor girl asked, addressing me once more.

"Yes, her name is Mary. What is yours?" I asked her.

She was looking at me in awe, as if I were the strangest thing she had ever encountered, barely stammering out, "Louisa."

"Alright, Louisa, will you escort us to the feast now? I am famished!" I said, turning the girl around and encouraging her to lead us to the food.

Louisa led us through an entire maze of halls and corridors. I would never be able to find my way to the Great Hall by myself.

The Hall was well named; it was a huge cavern with burning fireplaces all along the walls and tables everywhere. Few of the grand royal court were not there, many already seated, but all were talking loudly. Louisa started leading me up to the head table, where the royal family was. When I walked through the tables, every duke, lord, earl, lady, and duchess fell silent until I had passed. Then the whispers started.

I had heard them in the halls on the way to my new room while walking with Charlemagne and the king, but they were nothing like this; not many would whisper with the keen-eared royals in tow. Now, the whispers were overwhelming, and no Highnesses were here to stop them. So I held my head high and tried not to trip on the heavy skirt and petticoats I had chosen to wear.

Thankfully, once I had waded halfway through the chorus of whisperers, Charlemagne glanced down from the head table where he sat and saw me. He stopped short; that one glance had captured his attention so thoroughly. He jumped out of his chair and hurried toward me. I stopped and waited for him as he approached; I was not about to start running towards him and a break from the hushed voices that surrounded me would be welcomed.

"I am sorry I was not waiting for you at the entrance. I thought I would have more time until your arrival," he apologized ignoring the stares that were coming from every direction. He shot a scornful look at Louisa, as if it was all her fault that he was late. Louisa looked down guiltily.

"I seem to be quicker than most people," I said in her defense. "How long have you been here?" I asked, wanting to know how long he had left me in my room with nothing to do.

"I sent the servant girl after you right before I departed my room. I merely just sat down when you seem to have arrived," was the prince's reply.

"Milady, you are much quicker than most," Louisa stated in answer to my apparent question.

"I think I instructed you to something else as well, Servant," Charlemagne said curtly. She looked down shy and ashamed.

"In fact, she does not; Mary and I accomplished her task before it was even assigned to her," I said protectively.

Both the servant and the master were staring at me in disbelief, as well as the surrounding courtiers who had decided to join in our private conversation. Louisa looked at me and whispered, so as not to be heard by her master, "I thought the maid-" Mary glared at her. "Sorry, Mary, had done that herself."

"Why should she?" I asked in bewilderment; I was perfectly capable of helping her.

"I am going to have to talk to some tutors…" Charlemagne muttered. To me he said, "We will talk later, but now, let us eat."

"Good, because I am starving," I said happily. We walked the rest of the way up to the head table arm in arm.

* * *

Here we are FINALLy! I am so sorry to whoever has been waiting for this for forever, but I am hoping to get the next one out sooner.


End file.
